


Sleeping in Heavenly Comfort

by Antarctic_Echoes



Series: Luciferian Fics (One shots) [43]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe?, Deckerstar - Freeform, F/M, Humor, Wings, feathers - Freeform, shameless fluff, snoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:45:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarctic_Echoes/pseuds/Antarctic_Echoes
Summary: Lucifer invites Chloe over for drinks.  A discussion about feathers and snoring ensues, and the detective ends upverydrunk.Warning:  this is nothing but fluff.  (I figured we could all use a bit of fluff.  XD)One shot.Takes place sometime in the season 3 future after Chloe discovers who Lucifer is, but before they are in an established relationship.





	Sleeping in Heavenly Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Navaros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navaros/gifts).



> This is for my wonderful, amazingly talented friend Navaros, who gave me the idea for this shameless piece of fluff. Thank you soooo much! Never forget that you are super awesome!
> 
> A big thank you to my wonderful beta, ScooterThyme! You rock!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar and Chloe Decker are owned by Vertigo Comics, DC Comics, Neil Gaiman, Mike Carey, and everyone else involved with the Lucifer TV show and comic books. I own nothing and make no money on this. I merely am borrowing the characters for... uh... writing practice.

 

 

These days, it wasn’t often that Lucifer invited Chloe over to the penthouse.  With everything that had happened -- finding out about the circumstances of her birth, his getting kidnapped, the return of his wings, and the Sinnerman -- it just hadn’t seemed like the right time.  And then with the whole reveal....  Well, after _that,_ it _really_ didn’t seem like the right time to invite her over for drinks, even though the detective seemed to finally come to terms with who and what he was.

He did visit her at her apartment, though -- as often as he could without letting Amenadiel catch wind of it.  Although spending time with the detective and her little spawn hardly seemed like something he would enjoy, he had to admit that he loved being with them.  They let him be himself, and that felt very... liberating.  And beautiful.

It was almost as if they were a little family.

Which was silly, of course. He knew he couldn’t have anything with the detective.  He _knew_ it.  And yet he longed for things to be different.  Sometimes he lay alone in bed, wishing that a certain blonde detective was lying beside him.  Oh, not for sex -- although that would have been splendid -- but just for... company.  He found that he missed her when they were apart, and he craved those random, rare hugs she gave him.  Having her in his bed would have been glorious... and exactly what Dad would have wanted, so he kept her at arm’s length.  He was good at that.  They were friends, nothing more, no matter how much he wanted things to be different.

But today he was lonely.  It was Michaelmas, when everyone celebrated his stupid brother and the other archangels.  It was also supposedly the day when he was cast out of Heaven -- totally inaccurate, but humans rarely got anything right.  No, that didn’t bother him as much as the holiday for that idiot, Michael.

So he had asked his partner if she was free for drinks and cringed, waiting for rejection. He wouldn’t have been surprised at her refusal, for he hadn’t been particularly warm lately, had he?  But truth be told, he just didn’t want to be alone tonight.  The desire to bask in the warmth of someone who actually cared for him was overwhelming, driving him to ask her, when normally he wouldn’t have.  He craved the companionship of someone special -- someone kind-hearted and full of compassion, who didn’t hate him for who he was.  Someone he trusted.  Someone he had deep feelings for.

That someone was Chloe Decker.

Surprisingly she had agreed -- her daughter was going to spend the night with Dan, freeing up her evening.  Lucifer took her to a fancy French restaurant and plied her with food and wine.  They talked about everything and nothing, and the fallen angel felt the cold knot of loneliness in his heart slowly loosen under her gentle teasing.

He brought her to the penthouse after dinner with the intent of playing the piano and serenading her well into the night.  It was to be the perfect end to the perfect evening.  As he stripped off his suit jacket and laid it on the bar counter, he caught sight of Chloe staring intently at his couch.

“What on earth are you looking at?” Lucifer asked.

“You’re shedding,” she said, not even looking up.

He blinked.  “I beg your pardon?”

“There are some feathers on your couch,” she said as she continued to inspect his furniture.  “I think you’re shedding.”

“I am not!  I do _not_ shed -- unless it’s molting season, which it most definitely is not.”  He sniffed indignantly.  “Seriously, Detective....  How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“I can because it’s true.  Ah hah!”  Her eyes lit up as she pounced on something on the cushions, then gingerly picked it up.

The fallen angel lifted his brows at the piece of white fluff in her hand.  “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Angel down -- and I’m keeping it.”  Holding the feather up, she turned to him with a smile.   “After all, what could be better than an angel down pillow?”

“Devil down -- that’s Devil down you’re holding.”  Then her words hit him and his mouth fell open.  “Y-you’re collecting my feathers for a pillow?!”

Chloe nodded, looking quite pleased with herself.  “Yes.  I’ve been wanting a new pillow for some time now, and this will be perfect.  It’s too bad Trixie isn’t here.  She’s really good at finding things like this --”

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Lucifer marched up to her and snatched the plume out of her fingers.  “Right.  You are not making a bloody pillow out of my feathers.”

Her eyes widened.  “Why not?”

“I’m not a chicken or a goose!  These feathers were never meant for something as mundane as... as a pillow!  It would be the same as if I wore a top hat made of human hair.  You wouldn’t see me do that, now would you?”

She said nothing, merely lifted an eyebrow at him.

Lucifer stared back at her a moment then held up his hands in a defensive manner. “Okay, yes, I _would_ wear a top hat made of hair, but only because it would make me look fabulous, and that’s beside the point!”

She snorted, although her eyes danced with amusement.  “I’d think you’d be pleased that I want to embrace your celestial side.”

 _Embrace?_  The fallen angel’s ears perked up at her words, and desire flared to life within him.  Even though she didn’t mean it in a sexual way, that didn’t stop the fire from coursing through his veins.  “Oooh, Detective, that sounds promising!  I’m more than pleased that you want to embrace me, but why settle for a pillow when you can have the real thing?”  He unfurled his wings and felt satisfaction warm his insides as he saw admiration light up her face.  Dropping his voice to a sultry purr, he gave her his sexiest grin.  “You can touch them -- you know you want to.”

Instead of stroking his big, feathered appendages, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and lifted her chin.  Her mouth quirked up on one side, as if she was trying hard not to laugh.  “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”

The smile fell from his face.  “You what?”

“I’ll pass.”

“But... but...!” he sputtered.  “I’m standing here, offering to be a real live pillow for you!  Me, Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil himself, in all my feathered glory!”

She chuckled.  “True, but I’d rather sleep with my angel down pillow.”

How could she prefer a cushion stuffed with his feathers when she could have _him_ live, and in the flesh?  Frowning, he shrugged his shoulders and tucked his wings away.  Did she find him unattractive?  A sharp pain lanced him in the chest.

No, no, no... that couldn’t be it.  His memory flew to the kiss on the beach, and all the feelings they had shared after the whole Doctor Carlisle incident.  No, there was no way she found him unattractive.  He took a deep breath.  It was just that she was resistant to his Devil charm -- that was it... wasn’t it?

Trying hard to keep his face in a neutral expression, he bit his lower lip.  “But... but why?”

“A pillow doesn’t snore.”

Lucifer goggled at her in horror.  When he tried to speak, all he could get out were little gagging noises.

With a kind smile, Chloe nudged him out of the way and went back to looking for more feathers on the couch.  “Ah!”  She picked up another feather.  “This one looks quite soft --”

He snatched it out of her hand.  “I do not snore!”  Indignation burned in him as heat rushed into his cheeks.

“Uh-huh. Sure, Lucifer.”  It was obvious from her tone of voice that she didn’t believe him.

“I don’t!”

She chuckled.  “Says my partner who snored so loud during a stakeout that he threatened to wake the entire neighborhood.”

“That wasn’t snoring -- I was merely making my displeasure known because stakeouts are _boring!_  You’d be bored too if you had to sit in a car all day staring at a house, waiting for the front door to open.”

“You forget that I was in the car with you, and you didn’t hear _me_ snoring.”  Rolling her eyes, she shook her head.  “Look, the fact is that you do snore.”

“But -- but --”  Resisting the urge to pull at his hair, he raked it with his hand instead.  Even the very suggestion of him snoring was ridiculous!  Somehow he had to disabuse her of the notion -- and maybe alcohol was the key here.  “Right.  Perhaps you’d see reason if we discussed this over a drink.”

She cocked her head as she studied him, a half-smile on her lips.  “What, your snoring?”

“I do not snore!”

Chloe burst into laughter.  For a moment Lucifer held onto his indignation, before he finally relented and smiled.  “Look, detective, I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement as to whether or not I snore over a glass of Scotch.”

Chuckling, she nodded.  “Fine.”  She pointed at his wall of alcohol.  “I want the good stuff, though.”

He grinned.  “For you, Detective, only the very best.”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Perhaps drinking hadn’t been the wisest thing to suggest.

“The good stuff” had gotten Chloe very drunk _very_ quickly, and although Lucifer loved a drunken human as much as the next... well, Devil, he wasn’t sure that it was the best thing for the detective.  He eyed her warily as they sat beside each other on the couch.  He didn’t quite know how to handle a smashed Detective.

“I mean, fighting a horse-sized duck is horrifying, because... hello, _dinosaur,”_ she said as she shoved his shoulder with her own.  “But fighting a hundred duck-sized horses?  They would... would --”  She hiccupped.  “ -- totally overwhelm you.  All those tiny little hooves....”

He leaned over and plucked the half-full tumbler of Scotch out of her hand.  “Yes, well, why don’t we leave the discussion of duck-sized horses and horse-sized ducks for another night?  I think you’ve had a little too much to drink --”

“And why didn’t you tell me about your w-wings before?”  Chloe suddenly whirled on him and poked him in the chest.   “I mean, we’re partners, right?”  You’re a fr-- fr-- fracking angel --”

Lucifer squinted at her.  “A what?  My dear detective, I have nothing to do with hydraulic fracturing --”

She scrunched up her eyes and leaned close, almost coming nose to nose with him.  Her Scotch-laden breath fanned across his face.  “Huh?”

“You said fracking --”

“Frick... I said fricking angel.” A puzzled look came over her face.  “Or is it freak... freaking angel?  Frick, freak, frick, freak, frickfreakfrickfreak....”  A laugh suddenly burst from her, and she snatched back her tumbler out of his fingers and drained the remaining Scotch in one big swallow.  “I d-dare you to say that ten times fast.”  She dropped the glass onto the sofa and giggled.  “Ooops.”

The fallen angel recovered the tumbler and placed it on the coffee table, well out of Chloe’s reach.  “Detective, why don’t we get you a nice cup of coffee --”

The blonde woman suddenly pushed him back onto the cushions and proceeded to sprawl all over his body.  Not that he minded, for he loved the feel of her pressed against him, but she was drunk -- very, _very_ drunk.  With any other human, he would have taken what she was apparently offering, but this was the detective.  He didn’t want to have casual sex with her.  He wanted... well, what he wanted was what he couldn’t have, and there was nothing he could do about that.  He wasn’t about to let Dad dictate his love life... even if he already loved Chloe with everything inside of him.

No, they could never be anything but friends -- and a friend wouldn’t take advantage of her when she was in this state.

“Detective....”  He tried to move her, but she folded her hands on his chest and rested her chin on them.

“Why don’t you ev-ever have them out?” she asked, her aqua eyes pinning him into immobility.

He caught his breath at the sight of her soft, lovely face, with her tousled hair adding to her beauty.  “Have what out?”

“Your w-w-w-wings... I looooove looking at them.”

Her words scattered his thoughts to the four winds.  Gaping at her, he wondered if he was dreaming.  “Y-you do?”

“Uh-huh.  They’re ssssssssexxxxxxy,” she purred, then giggled.  “I have a hard time keeping my hands off of them when you _do_ bring them out, but I know we’re not... not....”  Her face fell before she brightened again.  “But ‘sokay!  I’ll have my pillow and I can p-p-pet it all I want.”  She patted his chest as if he was a cushion.

Surely he was dreaming...?  Or else Michael and his damned holiday had driven him mad -- that had to be it.  There was no other explanation.  He was afraid to believe that this conversation they were having was real.  “R-really?”

“Uh huh!”  Hiccupping again, she suddenly started bouncing up and down on him.  “Pull them out.  P-pull them out!”

Goodness, if she kept this up, she’d find herself with a horribly aroused Devil on her hands!  His heart in his chest, he laughed nervously.  His hands went to her waist to try to still her movements.  “Detective, please!”

“W-why are you saying p-p-please?”  When she cocked her head at him, giving him the sad puppy dog look, his heart nearly melted in his chest.  The gesture was so endearing....  “I should be the one saying p-p-pleeeaaase...” she continued in a slurred voice.  “Puhleeeeze pull your w-w-wings out and show meeeee....”  She suddenly snuggled against him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to control the flood of emotions coursing through him.  She felt so good pressed against him, and he had so badly wanted to have her in his arms for so long...!  And now, like a dream, she was here.  Yes, she was drunk, but she probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.  Surely there was nothing wrong with a little snuggle for just one night?

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.  Pressing his lips against her hair, he closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her against him.  Having her in his arms was pure bliss and torture at the same time.  Come morning, they would be back to their usual relationship and all of this would be forgotten -- and that hurt.

“Detective, I wish --”  A snore interrupted him.  Lucifer blinked, surprised.  “Detective?”  He glanced down and saw her passed out on his chest.  A sigh escaped him, then a rueful chuckle.  “Dearie me....”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Carrying Chloe into the master bedroom had been wonderful.  A dream come true -- or would have been, had she been awake and sober.  Placing her on his bed, which was where he always imagined her, had been glorious.  He’d intended on sitting in his armchair beside the bed to watch her sleep, but Chloe had other ideas.  As he took off her shoes and tried to get her into a comfortable position, she roused and practically yanked him into bed with her.  Gripping him like he was a giant teddy bear, she went back to sleep.

As stiff as a board, Lucifer lay in her embrace, not sure what to do.  Normally he’d be naked by now and engaging in some mattress calisthenics with his bedmate, but cuddling was completely foreign to him.  Slowly he relaxed, and held her in his arms with a smile.  Bliss.  Pure bliss.

An hour later she awoke, still drunk.

“I w-wanna lie on your wings,” she mumbled against him.

His eyebrows climbed to the top of his forehead.  “What?”

“It’ll be sssssso ssssssoft.  I wanna l-l-lie on them. I’ve been wanting to lie on them ever since I sssssaw them,” she slurred.  “‘Swhy I want a pillow.”

Lucifer gaped at her. That was the last thing he had expected her to say.  “But --”

“I wanna lie on them!”  She started yelling at the top of her lungs.   _“I wanna lie on them!”_

“Okay, okay!”  Setting her to one side, he sat up and took off his silk shirt.  After he tossed it on the floor, he unfurled his wings.  Glancing behind him, he saw Chloe staring at his giant feathered appendages with a goofy smile on her face.  “Right.  Detect--”

_“I wanna lie on them!”_

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Lucifer lay down on the bed with his back toward her and gently laid out his giant wings.  An “oof” escaped him as he felt her throw herself on them.  His heart nearly exploded when she snuggled close and pressed against his back, her head resting on his feathered limb.

“Mmmmm... nice,” she mumbled.

His heart thumped so furiously that he was afraid it would leap right out of his chest.  “Detective --”

A snore interrupted him... again.

The urge to laugh suddenly welled up inside him, and he let out a soft chuckle.  Making himself comfortable, he closed his eyes.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

A few hours later, Lucifer regretted ever inviting the detective over.  What a way to spend Michaelmas night!  He was sure that his brothers were laughing their heads off at the predicament in which he now found himself.

Contorted like a pretzel on the sheets, he teetered on the very edge of the bed -- one wrong move, and he’d fall off.  He blinked the one eye he could see out of -- the rest of his face was smashed against his pillow, bending his nose at an uncomfortable angle.  His arm ached -- it had somehow gotten pinned under his side -- and the unnatural angle of his back pulled at the muscles in his shoulders.  Not only that, he couldn’t feel anything in his wings.  Shifting about would have helped to get the blood circulating again, but he didn’t dare move for fear that Chloe would wake if he did.

Still sprawled all over his wings, she slept as soundly as a baby.  He worried that moving even a fraction of an inch would wake her, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that.  Sighing, he squeezed his eye shut.  He was the Devil!  Surely he could endure a little suffering for his detective?

He felt her shift against his wings, snuggling her face into the strong, feathered limb.  At least he thought she did -- he couldn’t be sure, seeing as how his wings were completely numb.

“Mmmm...” she mumbled against him.

Lucifer’s heart stuttered for a moment before beating in double time. Was she awake?  Could he perhaps finally put his wings away -- if he could move them -- and get into a more comfortable position?

But no... she started snoring again.  Crestfallen, Lucifer tried to make the best of the situation when he felt something wet on his feathered limb... or thought he did.  Puzzled, he thought about what it could be.  Tears?  It couldn’t be -- she was asleep, and didn’t seem distressed....  No, it had to be something else.  Suddenly, horror struck him.

Was... was she _drooling_ on him?!

Shock inundated him.  How could she be drooling on him?  He was the Devil -- no one drooled on him!

No wait, that wasn’t true.  Humans drooled over him all the time -- he had his angelic charm, after all!  And besides, was it really so bad?  This was the detective -- his lovely, smart, no-nonsense partner.  His face softened as warmth flooded his insides.

No, it wasn’t bad at all.  She could drool on him all she wanted.  He didn’t mind.

Smiling to himself, he closed his eye and tried not to think of the pain sparking through his contorted body.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Morning had never been so slow to come.

When Lucifer finally felt Chloe stirring against him, he wanted to weep for joy -- well, if the Devil was prone to doing such things, which he was not.  Having spent the entire night in one position, he was sure he’d be deformed for the rest of eternity.  His brothers would have a field day laughing at his sad, contorted body.  His limbs were painful and his wings felt dead, but at least he didn’t have bedsores.  That was something to be thankful for, at least.

Chloe groaned.  Lucifer opened the one eye not smashed into the pillow and hoped that she wasn’t completely hung over.  Perhaps he should have forced her to drink more water... not that he could do anything about it now.  He doubted he could even move.  There was more shifting -- at least he thought so...?  Hard to tell when his wings were completely numb.

He knew exactly when she was fully awake when she stiffened against him and he heard her whisper, “Oh my god, oh my god, omigod omigod omigod --”

 _“Must_ you bring up Dad?  Believe me, I can do without the thought of him this morning.”  His voice was muffled by the pillow.  He wondered if she could even understand him.

He felt her lift the blankets, then heard her sigh in relief.  “We’re both clothed.  Oh thank god....”

“There’s no need to thank that bloody wanker,” Lucifer mumbled.

The weight on his wings suddenly vanished and the mattress shifted as Chloe got off the bed.  The fallen angel lay immobile, trying to twitch his wings, but it was as if they weren’t there.  He couldn’t feel anything.  Maybe the detective could help him...?

“Detective?”  He blinked his one eye -- the only thing that he could move.  “Detective?”  When she didn’t answer, he wondered where she had gone until he heard the toilet flush in the bathroom.  Ah... necessities.  He waited for her to return, but she didn’t.  Instead he heard her brushing her teeth.  Was she using his toothbrush?  His heart pounded at the intimacy of it.  He’d never use that toothbrush again -- he’d have it plated in gold....

“I hope you don’t mind, but I saw you had an unopened toothbrush so I took the liberty of using it,” she said as he heard her walk back into the room.  Disappointment flooded him, but only for a moment -- he’d gold plate the spare toothbrush instead.  Her voice was puzzled when she spoke again.  “Why are you lying like that?”

“Perhaps because I can’t move.”

“What’s wrong?”  She suddenly came into his field of vision as she rounded the bed, concern all over her face.  “Are you sick?”

“Far from it,” he tried to speak more clearly, but he still couldn’t move.  “This is what happens when I lie in one position all night.  Not pleasant, but it does happen from time to time.”

She reached out and touched his shoulder.  “Oh crap, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to sleep on top of you like that --”

“And drool as well, but it’s quite all right, Detective.”  Trying to smile, he found that he couldn’t, so he closed his eye and mumbled against the pillow.  “It was quite an... enlightening experience.”  Opening his eye again, he gave her his most beseeching look -- not an easy task when he only had one eye with which to do it.  “Might you help me?”

Chloe became all business, her face growing serious.  “Of course. What can I do?”

“Lift my wings, move them back and forth to get the blood circulating.”  Slowly uncurling one of his cramped arms, he nearly cried out from the pain knifing into him.  He tried to bend and unbend his legs, and wondered how in the world to free the arm pinned under him.

His back muscles near his feathered limbs flexed -- Chloe must have been moving one of his wings, but he couldn’t even feel it.  It was a bad sign. When he heard her grunt, he called out, “Are you all right, Detective?”

“Yeah.  Your wings are dead weight, so they’re heavy,” she replied.  He heard the rustling of feathers but still couldn’t feel anything.  “How’s that?”

Shifting his face against the pillow, the fallen angel closed his eyes and tried to feel his wing.  A small tingle -- sensation was returning.  “I... I think I feel something.”

“Good.”

Long minutes slowly ticked by while Chloe exercised his feathered limbs, and feeling finally returned to Lucifer’s body -- but not in a good way.  Pins and needles ripped through his wings and the arm that had been pinned under him.  Writhing on the bed, he squeezed his eyes shut and panted as he tried to get the pain under control.

“Lucifer, I’m so sorry --”

“Not to worry,” he managed to say through gritted teeth.  Flashing her a smile -- or at least he hoped it looked like a smile -- he tried to laugh.  “J-just a minor inconvenience.  It will p-pass.”

“Are you sure?”

Opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of her distressed expression.  “Of course.  It always does.”

Except that he had never experienced agony quite like this before.  Concentrating hard, he struggled to breathe in and out.  Surely that would help?  Slowly the pain began to ebb and the tension gradually left his body.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Chloe gently touch his wings.  When he flinched, her hands immediately left them.  “I’m... I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.  “I just wanted to help.  I thought maybe a massage....”

Heat poured into Lucifer’s face at the thought of the detective’s lovely hands on his wings, touching his big feathered limbs.  It was enough to have him almost passing out in ecstasy.  Glancing at her, he struggled to keep the excitement out of his voice.  “That would be... lovely.”

She bit her lower lip.  “Are you sure?  I don’t want to overstep my bounds --”

“I’m sure!” he nearly yelled, nodding like a bobblehead doll.  “Please, Detective....”

“Okay.”  He caught a brief sight of her with the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth before she turned him onto his stomach.  After he spread his wings out, the fallen angel felt the mattress give as she climbed onto the bed.

And then her hands -- her strong, warm hands -- began working magic on his wings and back.  They kneaded, caressed, stroked, and rubbed, bringing relief to his cramped muscles.  Pressing and rolling, pushing and pulling -- it all sent hot shafts of arousal through his body.  Good thing he was lying face down!  He couldn’t stop the moans of pleasure from escaping him.

Her massage was better than any sex he had ever experienced.

Before he knew it, his body was completely relaxed.  His limbs felt heavy, like he was sinking into the bed, and he couldn’t move even if his life depended on it.  His mind was completely drugged with bliss.  Before he could stop himself, he fell asleep.

 

 

________________________________________

  


 

“See?  I told you -- you snore.”  Chloe’s amused voice, accompanied by her gentle fingers threading through his hair, woke Lucifer up.

Was the massage over already?  Disappointment flooded him -- he wanted it to continue.  Then he realized what she had said.  Turning his head, he glared at her as she stood beside the bed with a huge grin on her face.  Quickly furling his wings, he sat up on the mattress and leaned against the headboard.  With a dignified sniff, he said, “I do _not_ snore.”

“You were snoring loud enough to bring the entire building down.”

“Well it hasn’t collapsed yet, so your statement can’t possibly be true.  I’m sure what you heard were just moans of satisfaction as you massaged me.”

She chuckled as she climbed into bed next to him.  Giving his shoulder a friendly nudge with hers, she said, “You were ‘moaning’ long after I finished.”

Warmed by her friendly gesture, Lucifer tried to stay indignant but couldn’t.  “Well... I still don’t _think_ I snore.”  Chloe merely giggled.  When she patted his leg, then linked her arm with his, he felt heat rush into his face.  His heart pounded furiously when she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“I miss this,” she said quietly.  “I’ve missed this closeness.  I’m glad we spent the night together.”

A whole slew of teasing, sexual comments sat on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back.  Truth be told, he had missed this -- missed her -- terribly, and he had no intention of spoiling what had been the most perfect night of his life in recent days.  He gazed down at her bent head with all the love he had for her.  “I’m glad, as well.”

“If you don’t want me to make a pillow of your feathers, I won’t.”

“Right... about that.”  He took a deep breath.  “If it’s what you desire, I won’t mind.”

She looked up at him at that, her mouth dropping open slightly.  “But I thought you said your feathers weren’t for anything so mundane --”

A soft smile touched his lips.  “For you, I’ll allow it.”

A puzzled look came over Chloe’s face as she cocked her head at him.  “Why the sudden change of heart?”

He looked up at the ceiling, remembering her words of the previous night.  The thought of her holding a pillow filled with his feathers touched something deep within his core.  Even if they couldn’t be together, at least a part of him could.  “I’m the Devil, Detective -- it’s in my nature to be capricious.”  He shot her a stern glance.  “But I do _not_ snore.”

For a moment she just looked at him, her face pink and her eyes tender, then she grinned.  “Yes, you do!”

Before he could even blink, she pounced on him, tickling him all over. For the fallen angel, who had never been tickled in his very long life -- he was the one who always tickled the humans who came to him -- it came as a shock.  For a split-second he didn’t even know what she was doing before he doubled over with laughter.  Unable to control himself, his wings popped out, spasming and flapping.  Down flew everywhere but she kept up the attack, laughing almost as hard as he did.  He tried to escape those ruthless fingers that found every ticklish spot on his body, but she was relentless, rendering him completely helpless and at her mercy.  Damn it all, he thought he would die when he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs to breathe.

“Stop, stop!” he managed to gasp.

Collapsing on top of him, she gave him a big smile.  “You give up?”

As he stared at her smug expression, warmth filled his insides.  How he loved her!  “You have tamed the very Devil.  I give up.”

“Good.”  She snuggled next to him and laid her head on his shoulder.  “Remember that the next time you decide to go up against me.”

Tenderness softened his face.  “I will.”  Looking around at the fluff floating in the air and all over the floor, he shook his head.  “Well, you have plenty of down for your pillow now, my dear.”

Although he couldn’t see her expression, he heard the smile in her voice.  “Good.  That was my intention.”

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled.  “Indeed?  Clever minx.”  After leaning his cheek against her hair, he sighed.  “I suppose I should make us some breakfast.”

She didn’t move -- if anything, she burrowed deeper against his side.  When she spoke, her voice was small, like a little child’s.  “Can’t we just stay like this for a little longer?”

His heart stopped for a split-second, then pounded furiously in his chest.  He wrapped his arms hesitantly around her.  “If this is what you desire, Detective, I will be more than happy to accommodate you.”

Shifting more comfortably on the bed, Lucifer pulled Chloe a little closer, enjoying the warmth of her body cuddled next to his.  Ahhh, if only they could stay like this forever!  Of course they couldn’t -- Dad and his bloody manipulative ways prevented that -- but for a little while he wanted to pretend that he was Lucifer Morningstar, an ordinary fallen angel, and that she was non-miracle Chloe Decker, whom he loved more than anyone else in the entire universe.  He gave a contented sigh.  Just for a little while....

This was the finest Michaelmas celebration he had ever experienced.  He longed for time to stop, so that he’d never have to let her out of his arms.  And perhaps, if he wished hard enough, it _would_ stop...?  Smiling, he closed his eyes and dreamed... without snoring, of course.

 


End file.
